The next day, Jazzy wasn’t at camp. Genesis, glancing around during lunch, snuck out her phone and texted her.
Where are you?
It was only five minutes before there was a reply:
sorry i didn’t feel well today ttyl
Genesis sighed and responded the same, and her fate seemed to be to enjoy the companionship of an egg salad sandwich that she had sinister intentions for during the rest of lunch.
“Hey, Genesis,” Dante suddenly said from the table next to her, “sorry about Jazzy. Wanna sit over here?”
Genesis, glancing dubiously at the table of rambunctious teenagers, finally shrugged her assent and slid over. She mostly stayed in the back corner, which was fine. She really just wanted to look like she wasn’t a complete social outcast.
“How are you doin’ without your pal?” Dante asked her after a few minutes.
“Fine,” Genesis shrugged. “She just seems to be absent a lot. She told me she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Bro,” another boy—Damien, Genesis thought it was—scoffed, “do you hear nothing? Duh, she isn’t feeling well.”
“What do you mean?” Genesis demanded, furrowing her brow.
“Dude, did she not tell you?” another boy, Tremaine, returned the incredulity. “She’s in counseling.”
“In counseling? For what?!” Genesis half-screeched.
“Uh, depression, I think it was,” Dante said, absently shoveling a bite of food into his mouth.
Genesis blinked twice. For as short a time as she’d known Jazzy, she could not picture the embodiment of a sugar rush…depressed. How was it humanly possible for Jazzy to be depressed?
“That’s impossible,” she stated bluntly.
“It’s possible,” the fourth boy, Gerald, nodded.
“For what?!” Genesis demanded. “What does Jazzy have to be depressed about?”
“The staff won’t tell us,” Dante admitted. “You’re going to have to ask her.”
Before her next class, Genesis took Dante’s advice, whipping out her phone and sending a quick text:
Are you in counseling for depression right now?
She never got a reply.
][][][][][
The two girls were once again sitting in the classroom. The teacher checked his wristwatch, then looked up.
“Remember, all who have entered in the writing competition,” he said, “that your entries have to be turned in by quitting time tomorrow.”
Genesis’ spiral-bound manuscript was burning a hole in her backpack. She was so nervous, yet she knew she had to turn it in. It didn’t escape her notice that Jazzy’s pencil was shaking in the hand next to her. Genesis kept looking askance at it, reading some of her writing.
There was no doubt that Jazzy was an amazing writer, and Genesis knew that there were some good people to beat. Some amazing people. It was going to be close, and there was only less than a week left of camp to improve! Jazzy was still working on the story of her manuscript.
Nichole, frightened, sucked in a breath. She turned slowly and saw
The W in “saw” went askew as Jazzy’s pencil shook violently. Suddenly, it snapped completely in half and her face landed on her desk as she sobbed. Genesis stiffened, awkwardness radiating from beside her. Jazzy, without a word, got up and left, wiping tears from her cheeks.
Genesis looked at the broken pencil lying forlornly on the notebook, looked to the closing door, then shot from her chair and followed Jazzy. The teacher didn’t try to stop her.
“Jazzy!” Genesis called, trotting to catch up with the long-striding girl.
“Leave me alone,” Jazzy snapped.
“What’s going on?” Genesis persisted.
“Listen, I don’t need this from a Christian freak!” Jazzy screeched, whirling and shoving Genesis away.
Genesis froze. Jazzy was out of her mind. “I’m…not going to refer you to the local Bible study, Jazzy,” she said slowly, slightly bewildered. “Just tell me what’s going on! I, as a friend, want to know.”
Jazzy just glared at her, then broke down and turned away. “You don’t want to know,” she muttered.
“What,” Genesis asked sarcastically, “are you gonna die?”
But her heart rate elevated when all Jazzy did was look at her.
(AmyNicole, I know I’m freaking you out right now already lol. I love how you had such a psychic sense of what was happening!)
